Adventures in the Red Room
by Red Room Diamonds
Summary: Co-written by the Red Room Diamonds, this story is about five different courtesans and their adventures in the Red Room. So meet us in the Red Room, close the door and dim the lights. . .
1. The Spanish Rose

Adventures in the Red Room  
  
Starring:  
Carmine (drama-princess)  
Karita (Karadarlin)  
Sugar (Sugar Princess)  
Ariella (Glitter's Infatuation)  
Bella (She's A Star)  
  


A/N: This fic is a collaborative effort between the members of the Red Room blog and takes place before the action of the movie. We own all our own characters, but nothing else. Reviews are always welcome.   
  
  
  
  
Chapter 1: The Spanish Rose  
  
Carmine was late. Again.   
  
The nineteen year old can-can dancer was infamous for her smoky contralto, Spanish flair, and for her extreme lack of punctuality. She skidded into the dressing room and threw her hands up in despair.   
  
I am cursed! she cried dramatically, collapsing on the small, broken-down chaise. I will never make call time-- in time! Her performance was interrupted by a snort, and Carmine turned to see Ariella standing there, hands on hips, shaking her head at her. Carmine's tirade was interrupted by a genuine smile. The young girl was a close friend, and she was one of the few people that Carmine allowed herself to be real with.   
  
What's the crowd like tonight, love? Ariella raised her eyebrows and shrugged.   
  
I don't know. Get dressed and we'll go find out.   
  
Yes, yes, Carmine said, assuming her Spanish accent with ease. She'd been trained as an actress before coming to the Moulin Rouge, so she could take on and drop personas within seconds. Because of her olive skin and flowing black hair, she was known as The Spanish Rose.   
  
Carmine finished applying her dark crimson lipstick and studied her reflection pensively, a faint diamond shape appearing between her eyebrows as she did so. Black velvet corset embroidered with blood red roses, a color scheme echoed in her skirt. The alternating panels of ebony and scarlet gave her plenty of opportunity for Spanish dancing, and the red georgette sleeves drew attention to her flawless arms. Carmine tilted her head.   
  
What is it? Ariella asked curiously, twirling a length of fiery red hair between her fingers.   
  
Something's missing. She tapped her long red nails against the mirror frame. How much time do we have before we're backstage?   
  
Half an hour, Ariella said absently. Listen, I just remembered that I've got to go see Sugar about something. Will you see how many we'll have tonight?   
  
Carmine said, still watching herself in the mirror. Yes, it needed something else tonight. Jewels?   
  
Listen, sweetheart, you gonna stand there all night or are you actually gonna dance? The heavy accent broke through Carmine's thoughts, and a faint snarl appeared on her face. Nini. The older woman had it in for all the younger can-can girls, and seemed to especially go out of her way to torment the Spanish Rose.   
  
What's the matter, Nini? Carmine asked casually, reaching for a feather. Cat in your throat again?   
  
Don't push it, Rosie. Nini shoved her way in front of her and adjusted her sparkling black earrings. Nobody sees you in the back anyway. Carmine glared at her, but decided it wasn't worth the fight. And she had promised Ariella about checking the crowd.   
  
Outside, the garden was mostly empty, but a steady stream of patrons were approaching the elephant's leg. Looked like a pretty good night. With a sigh, Carmine sank down onto a bench and massaged her temples. Another night, another lover. It wasn't a bad life, but it was. . . a little empty sometimes. She cast a cautious look around her and stood. Her little diva moments had earned her a lot of teasing from the other girls, but it warmed her up for the crowd.   
  
Carmine lifted her arms and drew her lips together in a seductive pout. She knew just the right way to hold her head so that her face was illuminated by the lights, how to angle her hips in the way that just invited men to take a closer look. She began to hum softly, her voice warm and sultry. She felt the rhythm of the night flow through her veins and move her body. Her hand reached up and brushed her hair away from her forehead, eyes focused on nothing.   
  
Vincent Latour shifted impatiently. As a wealthy, if somewhat minor, member of the aristocracy, he was not used to waiting. He glared over at his friend, Jean Corot. He still could not believe that he had been talked into visiting the infamous Moulin Rouge. His wife would probably go into the hysterics if he knew he had even ventured near the place. But then, Marie went into hysterics at the slightest provocation. She grew more and more neurotic with each passing year. After three years of marriage, Vincent was being to doubt his ability to stand the woman until his death. Which was, no doubt, responsible for him standing here in line, waiting to meet the young and beautiful creatures that the Moulin Rouge was legendary for.   
  
Calm yourself. Jean flicked a hand at his younger friend. Just think, at this time you'd be sitting by the fireside with Marie.  
  
I was thinking that, Vincent returned sourly, his bad humour returning. I'm just not sure a night with any of these famed can-can girls is going to help her squeal subside.   
  
Just wait until you see the new star, Jean promised. She's stunning.   
  
She'll probably be a soprano, Vincent said glumly. Just my luck.   
  
Well, you can take whoever you want into the red room. And be thankful that I pulled enough strings to get you that deal. It takes power--  
  
And money. I know how these things work, Jean.   
  
Well, I think Satine will remove some of your melancholy. Relax, my friend.   
  
Vincent opened his mouth to make a stinging retort, but was cut off by the sight of one of the famous dancers. She was visible only at the peculiar angle he was looking at-- but what a sight! He could only see her profile, but that was perfect. Medium height and slender, wearing a costume that did more than hint at the curves that lay underneath. She stood there, swaying to a song that only she could hear. The rich colours of the sunlight brought out the glossy tints of her black hair. She was. . .   
  
What are you looking at? Vincent gestured out to the garden and Jean followed his gaze, puzzled by what had captured his attention.   
  
Pretty girl.   
  
Are you blind? Vincent asked incredulously. She's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen!   
  
If that's your reaction to a minor can-can girl, I can't wait to see when you'll see the Sparkling Diamond! Jean snorted. Marie really has been a bad effect on you if your jaw drops at any remotely pretty girl.   
  
Vincent didn't bother to reply. He was busy watching the girl, who had stopped dancing and was looking around the garden. She bent, her curved figure surrounded by radiant shots of gold light, and picked a flower. The red rose was woven into her mass of black hair, finishing the portrait of beauty that stood before him.   
  
Vincent didn't bother to make up his mind, but he knew who he was taking into the red room that night. . .  
  
Late again! Karita sighed at her friend, her upper-class English accent lending an authority to the words. Come on, get in place, Carmine. What were you doing out there?   
  
Getting ready, Carmine replied tersely. Big crowd tonight.   
  
Sugar said innocently, playing with her diamonds. Oh, we're starting.   
  
Pounding music filled the Moulin Rouge as Harold Zidler moved out, followed by the four leading dancers.   
  
The Moulin Rouge! he cried, already getting into the act. Carmine gathered her skirts and took a deep breath. The first step out onto the floor was always the worst. . .  
  
Are you ready for this? he boomed. The crowd yelled something back that Carmine couldn't understand. He stepped out, his voice echoing through the huge hall. You must have bet I'm in here to stay, ready to take you around the way. So get ready for this!   
  
Carmine stepped out, her head held high as she sang with the rest of the girls the chorus.   
  
_Sweet dreams of rhythm and dancing  
Sweet dreams of passion through the night.  
  
_Tonight is the night!   
  
_Sweet dreams are taking over  
Sweet dreams of dancing through the night.  
  
_Tonight is the night of love!  
  
_Sweet dreams of rhythm and dancing  
  
_Forever and ever it's never enough!   
  
_Sweet dreams of passion through the night.  
  
_So get out on that dance floor! Harold finished, standing aside for the girls to rush out into their positions. Are you ready for this?   
  
the crowd roared, and Carmine flashed a bright smile at the nearest occupant of a table. The young boy turned bright red and seemed to need a new oxygen supply.   
  
The. Can. Can! Harold boomed, and flipped the sign on the podium around. Carmine stamped her foot, her skirts falling in a swirl of black and red around her as she dropped them. She turned, swaying her hips and clapping her hands above her head as she sang along with the rest of the girls. She didn't see the intense pair of green eyes that were focused on her in a box above her head.   
  
_I wanna get into motion  
A better devotion.  
  
_Carmine fell into the splits and out into a fan kick, her skirt falling to her hips and revealing what little she wore underneath. She cartwheeled up and began to kick her legs in the can-can, running her hands down her bodice all the while.   
  
_So I can make it through the night!   
  
_Come on, Vince. See a girl you fancy? We're going to dance with them! Vincent walked down the stairs purposefully, heading for the girl that his eyes had not left through the entire evening. She had continued her Spanish can-can, banging her foot against the floor as she threw her head back, singing in a low, throaty voice.   
  
Care to dance? he asked, vainly trying to remember how to charm a woman from his courtship of Marie. The fact that she was a courtesan seemed to have eluded him. She eyed him carefully, and then brushed a hand up his arm and down his chest.   
  
Why not? A lock of black hair had escaped her exotic chignon and was caressing her bare shoulder. The music changed and she slid her arms around him, bringing him close. He gasped slightly and inhaled her perfume. It was an exotic, Oriental scent that seemed to make him want to float on the air.   
  
_Wanna be my lover?  
Wanna be my lover?  
Be my lover  
Be my lover  
  
_What's your name? Vincent gasped out, trying to maintain his composure. Her voice was rich and dark as she sang, and her eyes seemed to burn an invitation to him.   
  
she said breathily, running her hands down his chest and legs before coming back up. That lock of hair seemed to have taken on a life of his own. The Spanish Rose, she added, an amused smile touching her lips.   
  
he managed as she dipped back, demonstrating amazing powers of flexibility. There was a delicate hollow at the base of her throat that enchanted him, and he barely held himself back from reaching out and touching it.   
  
she asked him, lazily tracing up his face and smiling seductively at him. Do you?  
  
Do I-- what? Vincent's voice was definitely shaking now.   
  
Wanna be my lover?   
  
I-- I have the Red Room booked tonight.  
  
This time it was Carmine who had to hide her expression. The Red Room? But that-- that was only used for high class courtesans that were patronized by very wealthy men. It took every ounce of her self-control not to drop the facade and break out with a bright smile. She had definitely lucked out this time.   
  
Show me the diamonds, she said throatily. She brushed his cheek with her lips as she spoke. And I'll let you wear my ring.   
  
  
  
  
Songs used (in order):   
Get Ready for This 2Unlimited_  
_Sweet Dreams La Bouche  
Tonight is the Night Le Click  
Be My Lover La Bouche_  
_Meet Me in the Red Room Amiel  
_  
  
_


	2. The Angel

Adventures In The Red Room

Chapter Two: The Angel

  
  


People often claimed that eighteen-year-old Bella looked like an angel.

She supposed she saw where they were coming from...she did have the classic features that the heavenly messengers were often described to.

Long, shimmering blonde curls.

Check.

Bright, innocent blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes.

Check.

A slender, petite build.

Check.

However, Bella seriously doubted that angels had the gift to curse with as much flourish as she did. 

"Goddamn bloody hell!" she muttered angrily as her red lipstick slipped from her rather frail-looking hands and onto the floor. 

"No offense, Bella, but I don't think the nonstop swearing goes well with the 'wilting flower' look," a smiling Karita informed her in her prim British accent as she stepped into the dressing room.

"Funny," Bella responded dryly as she picked up her now-squashed lipstick from the floor and studied it in dismay. 

"Aren't I always?" Karita asked breezily. "What are you doing in here? We're supposed to be out entertaining." She wriggled her eyebrows mischievously at the last word.

"Make-up touch up," Bella invented. In actuality, she'd been escaping from a creepy-looking man whose particularly lustful eyes had been fixed on her. She knew that it was against the rules to refuse a customer, but she couldn't help it...something about that man had just sent shudders down her spine.

And not the good kind, either.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked, directing the question back at Karita.

"A man out there was asking for you," Karita responded with a grin. "Really freaky looking one with huge eyes. He wanted to know where the 'angel one' had run off to."

"Great," Bella moaned sarcastically. "Goddamn bloody fabulous."

"You do always get stuck with the creepy ones, don't you?" Karita asked, looking thoroughly amused and not the slightest bit sympathetic. 

"You girls'd better get back out there and dance your asses off," red-haired Sugar instructed them as she flounced into the room. "The place is packed."

It sounded wrong somehow to hear curse words uttered in Sugar's melodious, innocent tone. Quite the contrary, they matched perfectly with Bella's heavy British accent.

The ever-singing Sugar began to hum the tune to Meet Me In The Red Room under her breath as she danced around the dressing room. 

Bella highly doubted that she would make it to the infamous Red Room inside the elephant with any of her customers. It was reserved for the finest of courtesans; a category under which she and the others definitely didn't fall. That was the Four Whores, and of course, the legendary Sparkling Diamond herself, Satine.

Bella had been at the Rouge for practically six months, and still, she had no idea what to think of Satine. Many of the girls, including Nini, Arabia, and China Doll, loathed the Diamond with a passion, claiming that she stole the spotlight that was rightfully theirs. Petty jealousy wasn't something that Bella was going to bother feeling...she was just glad to be in here with a roof over her head rather than turning tricks out on the street like she had been before. So really, she had nothing to hold against Satine. She couldn't help but see the star as tragic...trapped. 

"Bella," Sugar said, clapping her hands loudly and forcing Bella out of her reverie, "Make-up time is over. Let's get out there!"

More than anything, Bella wanted to remain in the dressing room and study her reflection rather than go out and face the big eyed creep, but that was never an option. 

I have no right to be resentful about my work, she thought as she followed Karita and Sugar out into the dance hall. Not after what I've been through before....compared to that, this is heaven.

  
  


~*~

  
  


"Thank God for Arabia," Bella proclaimed to the empty dressing room as she stepped inside, collapsing onto her bed.

She'd danced for three songs with Big Eyes, but luckily after he finished ogling her he realized that Arabia was a much worthier candidate of his affections. Bella had never gotten along with the brunette dancer, who didn't like her much because of her outspoken nature. When Arabia saw the man breaking away from Bella and coming towards her, the smile she'd flashed her had been so infuriating that Bella had wanted to knock a few teeth out of it. But oh well.

Good riddance.

It was difficult for Bella to get along with any of the Four Whores, and with good reason-they all treated Bella and the other courtesans as they claimed Satine treated them. As if they were inferior, unworthy.

"Yes," Bella mumbled to herself. "Because it's SUCH an honor to be a high class whore rather than a lowly one."

Her conversation with herself was cut short when the faint sound of a hacking cough filled her ears, and she heard the crashing sound of something being knocked over. Bella immediately sprang out of bed and hurried over to investigate. 

Hunched over, one pale arm resting against the wall for support, was Satine. A horribly violent cough escaped her crimson lips, and she shook slightly. 

Without thinking, Bella rushed over to her.

"Satine! Are you all right?"

After she uttered the words, she realized that they were the first she'd ever spoken to the Sparkling Diamond. When she thought about it, the only way they'd ever communicated was a few polite smiles now and then. Bella wasn't even sure Satine knew what her name was...

But that didn't matter. The girl was obviously sick.

"I..." Satine said weakly, then dissolved into another fit of coughing. Though she was still clad in a diamond-studded corset and black evening gloves, she no longer seemed at all elegant; rather, she gave off the small, meek, and helpless air of a little girl.

"Do you need a glass of water?" Bella questioned nervously. 

Satine shook her head, still coughing. Finally, the fit subsided.

"I...I'm fine," she said weakly, a small smile on her lips. "I just...I've had this wretched cough for the last week or so. I don't know what it is. Probably just something going around."

"Probably," Bella agreed, now feeling awkward in the presence of the legendary courtesan. Still, she didn't seem at all as the Four Whores made her out to be-not the least bit regal or narcissistic.

Satine looked completely exhausted as she said, "Well, I just came in here to get ready...I'm supposed to meet a customer in the elephant in a few minutes, but I just don't feel up to it at all..."

This statement was followed by another bout of coughing, this one even more violent than the first. When Satine removed her hand from her mouth, her black glove was stained with a dark substance.

"Oh, God," she murmured to herself, staring, transfixed at the stained satin.

With a sinking realization, Bella realized what it was.

Blood.

"It must be the costumes," Satine immediately said, slipping the glove off of her left hand. "These silly costumes..." 

Yet another cough escaped from her lips, even worse than before. 

"There's no way you're going to the elephant tonight," Bella announced. It felt strange to order the star of the Moulin Rouge around, but she was sick. 

"But..." Satine protested weakly.

"Just stay here," Bella said, trying to make her loud voice sound comforting. "What's the guy's name? I'll go tell 'im you won't be able to make it."

"Oh, would you?" Satine asked with a grateful smile.

"Sure," Bella said, grinning back. 

And it was on that evening that a lowly courtesan befriended the legendary Sparkling Diamond.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Where was she?

Andrew Johnson bit his lip nervously as he studied the red satin walls of the elephant. 

I shouldn't be here, he thought. I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be here, I really, really shouldn't be here. I have a fiancee at home, for God's sake! Sure, I don't know her very well (damned arranged marriages!), but she's a fiancee nonetheless.

When his friends had announced that they were taking him to the legendary Moulin Rouge, Andrew hadn't objected. After all, he had been curious about it for a while...this nightclub of dreams, this fantasy world. And he'd enjoyed himself, that was true. Until one of his friends had announced that they'd arranged him an evening with the Sparkling Diamond.

'The Sparkling Diamond?' Andrew had croaked, gesturing to the stunning redhead that was dancing around the club, proclaiming that diamonds were a girl's best friend.

'The one and only,' his friend had replied with a devious grin. 'You're supposed to meet her in the elephant at twelve o'clock. Meet her in the red room.'

'The Red Room?' 

'It's the very best,' his friend had assured him. 'You'll never forget it.' 

It was now twelve twenty-five, and Andrew was trying desperately to think up a polite way to tell the Diamond that he didn't want her services. 

"It's not that I don't want to," he muttered under his breath, talking to the air in front of him. "It's just...I have a fiancee at home, and..."

His voice trailed off as a woman walked into the elephant. No, not a woman...no woman could be that beautiful. A goddess, an angel.

Yes, an angel, that's what she had to be. With her shimmering blonde curls and innocent blue eyes, skin a flawless ivory with ruby red lips, there was nothing else she could be.

His heartbeat increased as he realized that she was walking towards him. 

Her lips slowly opened, and she asked, in a loud, brassy voice that didn't match her angelic face at all, "Were you s'posed to meet Miss Satine?"

"What?" Andrew asked stupidly, still transfixed with her. Her voice didn't take anything away from her beauty...rather, it added to it. It was refreshing.

Looking impatient, the angel put a hand on her hip and repeated, "Were you s'posed to meet Miss Satine?"

"Satine?" he asked blankly. "Oh, yeah, Satine. Yes, I was, but I...I don't think I'm going to be able to go through with it. Tell her I'm sorry, I-"

"Whoa," the angel said with a laugh. "Calm down, buddy. She ain't coming. Sick."

A huge wave of relief flooded through him, but he managed to put on a concerned expression. "Sick? How?"

"Cough," the angel said. "She was practically passing out...hacked up a little blood, even."

"Blood?" Andrew asked, alarmed. "Does she have consumption?"

"Consumption?" the angel asked, looking as though she'd never considered that possibility. "No...no, it's just a cough."

She sighed. "Well, buddy, I'm sorry ya had to wait. I'd better get going-"

"Wait!" 

The word was out of his mouth before Andrew knew what he was going to say to back it up.

"What?" the angel asked, fingering her powder blue can-can skirt absently. 

"Can....can you...s..stay?" he stuttered, more to the floor than her.

"Come again?"

Andrew looked up, then said more loudly, "Would you stay?"

The angel seemed to consider it for a moment before saying in a low, breathy tone that matched her face much better, "Just show me the diamonds."

"Oh!" Andrew felt his cheeks light up. "No, no, no...no...not like that."

"Oh," the angel said, looking a bit embarrassed herself. "Well, then, whaddya want?"

"To...talk," Andrew said delicately.

"Talk?" she raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow at him.

Andrew nodded numbly.

An amused smile danced around the corners of her crimson lips as she replied.

"Sure."

"Great," Andrew grinned. 

"So..." the angel tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Where do we start?"

Realizing that he couldn't simply refer to her as 'the angel' forever, Andrew asked, "What's your name?"

"Bella," she responded, smiling. 

Bella. 

"Doesn't Belle mean beautiful in French?" he asked.

Bella nodded.

"Well, then," he picked up one frail-looking hand and kissed it lightly. "Your name suits you very well, Mademoiselle."


	3. The Ex-Debutante

Chapter 3: The Ex-Debutante  
  
  
Karita cursed the inventor of the heavy can-can skirts, pushing the dratted garments out of her way. "Ariella owes me for this," she muttered, her blue eyes snapping furiously.   
"Hello?" She called, her voice full and throaty. Another old, nearly impotent man who would pay well but leave her unsatisfied. Always the same old song and dance at the Moulin Rouge.  
  
Of course, there was nothing wrong with that. Karita would much rather be there than be laced tightly into a loveless marriage with a loveless husband and being tied to her manners. She couldn't have been born to worse parents, to a worse situation. A debutante, celebrated in London's elite social circles, but a rebel and true Bohemian spirit at heart. Somehow, Karita had escaped the clutches of her socialite mother and her distant, studious father. She'd caught the first train to Paris, changed her name from Kathleen to Karita, and burned all the traces of the girl she used to be.   
  
Harold had taken her in right away, given her the name of The Goddess, dressed her as Aphrodite, and let her can-can her way into the hearts of hapless, disgustingly rich men.   
  
She ran a hand through her hair that was currently amber colored and sighed heavily, waiting for the goddamned door to open so she could get this over and done with, reap in the benefits, and then go back to the small apartment she shared with Sugar, Carmine, Ariella, and Bella.  
  
"Are you Ariella?" The voice responded through the heavy wood of the door.   
"No, I'm her replacement, Karita." She said, making her voice sweet and seductive at the same time. "She was unable to make it here. But I can show you a better time..."  
"Come in."   
Karita's breath caught in her throat when she got a glimpse of the young man who opened the door. She was completely speechless; quite a strange occurrence for the talkative Diamond Dog. The man who stood there was by no means a rich gentleman, oh no. He was one of those 'I want to be the future of Bohemianism' types; mussed dark hair, piercing blue eyes, bronze skin that completely took her breath away.   
"Um...hello." She whispered. "I'm your muse for tonight. I can be anything you want me to be."  
He just laughed, his eyes drilling into hers. "Why are you laughing at me?" She snapped.  
"Stop that act. Don't be a courtesan around me, please. I'm Theodore Knox. Call me Ted. Teddy. Theo."  
"I'm Karita."  
"No you aren't."  
"What do you mean, no I'm not?"  
"That isn't your name. You're not Spanish. Don't tell me Karita is a proper name for a girl like you with that accent. Let me guess your history. Sit down."  
She did so. "Okay, guess. Get it right, you get me. Get it wrong, I'm leaving."  
"All right. You were from a British family."  
"Oui." Karita nodded, blue eyes flaming. She'd expected to sleep with the man, get paid, and leave. Obviously the gods had other plans.   
"And you didn't want to be trapped into that lifestyle, so you ran away, right?"  
Karita sighed in defeat. "You win."  
He grinned. "I don't want to sleep with you."  
"Then why did you call me? Were you going to pull this prank on Ariella too?"   
"No. I paid her not to come and to send you, Miss Karita. What is your real name, anyway?"  
"I'm not telling you."  
"You will."  
"Kathleen," she mumbled, hating herself for bending under the pressure of his eyes. "So you called a whore just to make fun of her, Theodore Knox?"  
"No," he said with that amused smile. "I like you."  
"So do lots of other men." She said, fiddling with the brightly sequined skirt she wore. "So why should I call you special?"  
"Because I am." Theo pulled Karita up to him and almost smashed his mouth to hers. Karita squirmed at first, trying to break free of the iron grip, but then relented and enjoyed the rush of warmth pumping through her body. Impulsively, she put her own arms around him and pulled him even closer, returning the kiss with every fiery cell of her. When they were finally so in need of oxygen that they forced themselves to break, Karita wobbled slightly and gave a fuzzy smile. Her vision was clouded with stars and hearts and all those lovey-dovey things she'd been so cynical of. "Whoo..." she murmured, still wobbling on her feet.   
"Don't fall there." Theo said, bringing his arm under her back to make sure she didn't drop down to the floor.   
Karita just giggled like she'd drunk too much champagne and whispered, "Kiss me again, please."  
"Hey, aren't you supposed to be doing the seducing?"  
"Want me to lay down there and spread my legs?" She asked, eyes flaming once again.   
"Settle down, fireball." Teddy smoothed the ruffled amber curls and twirled her around the room.   
"Kiss me again." Karita repeated. "And again and again."  
"Demanding little thing, aren't we, petite Katie?"  
"Yes. Now shut up and kiss me."  
"You've had enough kissing for one night."  
"You don't know me too well, do you, Teddy?" Karita lay down on her stomach on the bed and propped her chin in her hands. "I like to be kissed. Love to be kissed, really." She winked at him and beckoned for him to come her way. "Come here, Teddy."  
"Look, Katie-Girl, if you expect to be paid..."  
"Paid?!" She shrieked, jumping from the bed and stomping her little feet over to him. "PAID? You were going to PAY me?"  
"Isn't that what you do?"  
"WHAT? I know I'm a whore! That's my job. But I thought...I thought...I think I should leave."  
Karita turned on her heel, amber locks flashing, and slammed the door behind her.  
  
The distraught, flushed Karita burst through the door of the small apartment she lived in. Only Sugar was there, staring at her reflection in the mirror.  
"Hair again?" Karita asked, forcing a smile to crack her angered face.   
"Of course." Sugar grinned. "What's wrong? You look like a flustered hen. Bad night?"  
"Well, it didn't start out bad. Ariella sent me in her place to meet one man, who turned out to be perfect." Karita began removing her heavy skirts and unlaced her corset. Standing in her undergarments, she spilled the whole story to Sugar.   
"Poor girl."  
"Wonder where the others are."  
"Probably off fucking at the Moulin."  
Karita stretched lazily on the small ottoman and yawned. "I'm going to bed, Sugar."  
"Goodnight, Ita."   
  
  
She didn't sleep. Instead, still in her petticoats and barefoot, Karita took a walk in the warm Parisian night. It was a starless night, and the half-moon in the sky cast her form in silver light. She sang softly to herself, to anyone who might pass her on the nearly deserted streets.  
  
_"There's a saying goes, says that love is blind.  
Still we're often told "seek and ye shall find."   
So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind.   
Looking everywhere, I haven't found him yet."_   
  
She was lying blatantly to herself. She had found him earlier this night.   
_"He's the big affair I cannot forget.  
Only man I think of with regret.   
I'd like to add his initial to my monogram...  
Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?"_   
  
Karita closed her eyes and spun like a child on the streets, not caring who was regarding her with suspicious eyes. "It's my fault," she thought to herself. "I wonder what would have happened had I not left like that."  
The river sent blinding sparkles into her eyes and she looked up to the moon, singing in a hopeful whisper.  


__

"There's somebody I'm longing to see.  
I hope he turns out to be  
Someone to watch over me."  
  
Who was that, walking slowly ahead of her? Why did he look back at her so often and smile that wry, amused smile? Why, even in the silvery darkness, could she see the clear blue of his eyes?   
Karita picked up her pace and ran towards him. "Theodore Knox!" She called out into the night. "Teddy!"  
He turned slightly, grinned, and put his arms around her small waist. "You're undressed."  
She looked him in the eyes, her own twinkling with happiness, and sang softly into his ear.  


__

"Follow my lead, oh, how I need  
someone to watch over me."   
  
END OF CHAPTER 3  
  
"Someone to Watch Over Me" is by George & Ira Gershwin. 


	4. The Scarlet Starlet

Chapter 3: The Scarlet Starlet

Sixteen-year old Ariella sighed deeply as the ice-cold pillar she was leaning on cooled down her boiling skin brilliantly. She watched, her eyelids half shut, as the rest of the Diamond Dogs strutted their stuff, looking as though they could dance and sing forever without stopping.

Carmine stood a little off to one side, set apart by her loud Spanish trilling and raven tresses flying in a messy halo around her. Sugar stood a little closer, her eyes surveying the choice of men on the menu for later, absently twirling a stand of her frequently moaned about hair in her fingers. Men surrounded Belle, as usual, her angelic looks winning the crowds yet again. Karita twirled in the middle of it all, her eyes lost in some distant dream. Ariella grinned; she hoped Karita would forgive her for Teddy's indecent behaviour.

"Aww, is the little one too ill to be a dancer with the big girls?" Nini sidled up to Ariella, her eyes flashing with the ever-constant spark of bitchiness. 

"Shut your mouth Nini. Why are you bothering to come and annoy me? Doesn't anybody want you?" Ariella threw her best evil glare, and Nini stalked off, determined to grab a man as soon as possible. Ari set herself back against the pillar and contemplated her past few weeks at the Moulin Rouge.

Ariella Nicole Morgan was not exactly what you'd call a complex person. Born into a middle-class family, she'd lived in a small town in Wales with her mam, tad and two sisters until she was fifteen. Bored with small town life, Ari had saved up for months until she finally had enough for the boat ride to France. When she'd finally got there, it had taken her breath away. Paris was alive, pulsating, throbbing with life! Bohemians filled the streets with their songs and dances, and Ari had never felt so much at home. She was the odd duckling back in Wales, people didn't know how to accept the girl who longed to sing and dance and who collected anything new and unusual. Here, Ariella was warmly welcomed.

After a month of searching, Ari had stumbled upon the Moulin Rouge, the kingdom of night time pleasures. Ruled over by the fat yet eccentric Harold Zidler, it hadn't taken much to get hired. Now she shared a room with her closest friend, a fellow dancer by the name of Carmine, and she had gained a reputation as the 'Scarlet Starlet', due to her lengthy legs and flyaway copper hair. As she leaned against the pillar, Ariella could feel the eyes full of lust watching her, inspecting her, checking her over to see if she could end up being a good fuck. Ariella sighed; being one of the youngest was a pain in the ass, she wasn't used to so much dancing. Sighing, she waited for her breathing to become normal again.

"Hey, how's the picking for tonight?" Ariella jumped as Sugar's breathy voice softly floated over to her. Sugar giggled and brushed back her hair from her face, peering at Ari with a cutsey grin on her face.

"Sugar! You scared me then! Nah, there's nothing much really, just the usual bunch. I bet you I'll end up with that old bloke with the funny teeth and bad breath."

Sugar winked "That could pass for any of them, chica. I'm off to get myself a tasty bit of meat, fancy a look about?"

Ariella shook her head, her soft curls flaming in the mad light. "No thanks, I'm just gonna keep to the dancing and wish upon a star."

Sugar laughed, her voice bubbling like the laugh of a fairy. Swiftly she was away, singing and throwing about her skirts and acting like she had no care in the world.

Rolling her eyes at Sugar's pixie-like behaviour, Ariella picked up her heavy skirts, which were beaded with various good-luck charms and unusual ruffles from the market, making it twice as heavy. Weaving amongst the ballerina-like dancers and two-left-footed men, Ari searched desperately for someone who was young and at least moderately attractive. Twirling around, Ariella stopped dead when she saw a young boy, ages roughly the same as her, with black hair and deep chocolate eyes gazing at her. When their eyes met, the connection was immense, like an electric bolt. Gliding over to him, Ariella threw herself onto his lap and purred into his ear.

"I stand in the distance, I view from afar. Can I offer some assistance? Should it matter who you are?" Ariella gazed into the boy's eyes and spoke levelly, "I will be yours truly if indeed the price is right."

The young boy looked like his face was a giant cherry sitting on top of a tuxedo with black hair. He shyly looked up, and met Ari's fierce green-eyed gaze.

"W-Who are you?" Ari snuggled into his next and softly hummed.

"Just call me the Scarlet Starlet. So, you want to go someplace fun?" Ariella giggled as the young boy squirmed in his seat.

"Yes, I mean, please, I mean sure."

Giggling, Ari eased out of the boy's lap and threw a kiss on his lips. The current was positively alive, and Ari felt like she'd struck gold. Grabbing his anxious hand, Ari glided between the crowds until she reached the door, which separated the party goers from the paying customers. Carmine stood nearby, chatting to a dashing young man, and Ari wolf whistled. Carmine raised her head and grinned.

"Aries, you off to the room?"

"Yeah, don't mind do you?"

"Be my guest" Carmine winked and Ari ran ahead, pulling the boy with her. She turned her head and cocked it to one side, her red hair falling in delicate curls around her face.

"Hey baby, what's your name?"

"J-Jonathon. Jonathon Parker."

"Hmm…Johnny hey? No need to worry 'cause...I'm a professional."

Songs Used:  
Confide in Me – Kylie Minogue  
Meet Me in the Red Room - Amiel


	5. The Sweetheart

Chapter 5 - The Sweetheart

Sugar carefully brushed her long hair. Her hair had always been a source of great pride, great humiliation, and great fascination for Sugar.

Her hair always seemed uncertain of what it wanted to be. The color seemed crossed between arctic, frosty blonde, and flaming, vibrant red, varying between the too. Sometimes, to Sugar's distress, it turned a particularly odd shade of orange, which earned her the nickname 'Carrot' from some of the other, more mean-spirited girls. Sometimes her hair was a warm, golden-reddish color, sometimes a burnished sunshine color. But most of the time it was plain strawberry blond, with streaks of lighter blond and darker red. The hair was almost always curly, but when temperature was low or when her temper was riled, it seemed to straighten out to an obedient wave. Sugar's curls never did what they were told. If she wanted them to stay up, they fell down. If she wanted them to stay down, they went up. She envied Bella's beautiful, golden, well-behaved locks; Carmine's sleek and stylish tresses. Karita's seemed trained to do as they were told, and Ariella's hair always was perfect. Even wretched Nini's hair was eternally in place.

Most coveted of all, of course, were Satine's fiery strands. Just one look at the positively radiant Satine's hair could send Sugar into a melancholia that would last for hours. Why couldn't HER hair do that?

Sugar sighed, and put the brush down. Again, she had escaped early from the activities of the night, and she nothing left to do but wait for the "big girls" to come back.

Sugar shared her room with Karita and Bella, the two girls who had taken her under their wings when she first came the year before. At 14, Sugar had been the youngest girl to come to ask for a position at the Rouge, and a year later she was still the baby.

With his soft heart, Harold always kept an eye out for Sugar, and managed somehow to always get her out of the dance hall before dawn. But Sugar couldn't sleep until the other girls were with her.

Sugar had been alone for most of her life. Her parents had died when she was quite young, leaving her with no one but her older sister Anne. Anne had protected her for as long as she could, but before long the underworld claimed her dear older sister. Anne had died two years before.

Sugar- whose name was then Alice- wandered around Paris as a street urchin. Sugar had never been very strong, and the street life did nothing to help her health. At the Rouge, with good food and a warm bed, Sugar was the healthiest she had been in a long time.

But her looks remained fragile, and she had the appearance of a dandelion: something that was pretty for a short time and then destroyed. Sugar continued to study herself in the mirror. The moonlight illuminated the dark room with a thin stream of incandescence, making her milky-white complexion glow. Her best features, she knew, were her eyes, which were shimmering emeralds. Next was her hair, the ever-changing mix of red and gold. The rest of her was non-descript. Her type could be found in palaces and brothels, in parlors or on the streets.

Sugar moved to her trundle bed, which was under Bella's, and sat down. She lit a match, and lit a candle. Though Harold had invested hundreds of francs the year she arrived in installing electricity, Sugar preferred the softness of candlelight.

She then stood up and stretched. She looked once more in the mirror, and saw in its reflection a tiny, lithe figure of a lost little girl with two long red braids down her back and bright green eyes.

She struck a pose, and then began to dance around the room, humming a tune of a song that she had heard the band practicing earlier that day. Sugar had a gift with music, she could hear a song and be able to sing it or hum it even years later. While memories of her parents were vague, she could still hear her mother's voice singing to her, and her father's Irish brogue singing merrily off-tune.

She spun around, her nightgown whirling out around her. Her mind was abuzz with lyrics and songs.

The door opened, and the light was switched on. Caught, Sugar froze.

In the doorway stood Karita and Bella. "Oh, look!" exclaimed Karita. "It's our Sugar-spun fairy!"

Sugar relaxed and smiled at the two older girls. "Hi."

"You really are talented, Sugar baby." Bella drawled, taking the endearment from one of the American gentlemen who had taken a fancy to Bella the week before. Of course, with the American, sugar baby was just a sweet name, in this situation is was a pun. "You should talk Harold into letting you stay out later."

Sugar sat down on her bed. "I like being in here by myself. I can think. And sing."

"And dance." Karita whistled encouragingly. "In a few years, you'll be a valuable asset to the Dogs. Nini doesn't have a thing on you." She then turned and disappeared behind the screen. A few minutes later she emerged in her petticoat and chemise. Bella moved behind, and Ita, as Sugar called her, flopped face-forward dramatically across her bed, facing Sugar. "There were people asking for you tonight, little one. You were lucky Harold didn't come up for you."

"It wasn't for love, I can assure you of that." Sugar said, arranging herself on Bella's bed. Bella's big feather mattress made her look like she was floating, and her feet dangled just above the ground.

"It's never for love, darling," drawled Karita. "It's for physicality."

"Male omnipotence." Disagreed Bella intelligently, her golden head peeking above the partition. "Men need to feel omnipotent. And it's a damn good thing, too, else we'd be out of a job."

Sugar shook her head, her curls springing around her head. "No. They go to you for love. And to Ita, and to Carmine, and to Ari."

At that moment, as if on cue, the two girls mentioned appeared. Both seemed a bit breathless.

"Speak of the devil." Quipped Karita.

"Good night?" asked Bella smartly, coming out from behind the screen in a blue silk robe.

"What philosophies Sugar tellin' us tonight?" asked Carmine, ignoring both the statement and the question and going to lounge on behind Karita on her bed, stretching like a cat. Carmine was always simply elegant.

"She's explaining the men to us." Said Bella. Turning to Sugar, she instructed: "Go on."

"Men go to you for pleasure. They come to me for comfort."

Ariella nodded. "It is true. Sugar's more soothing than any of us. She listens."

Bella looked at their reflection in the mirror she was sitting at. "Whenever does she not?"

Sugar looked down. "From you, they want-"

"To get physical." Supplied Carmine. "With you-"

"They want understanding." said Ariella.

"Do you have any idea how good you have it, Sugar Sweet?" said Karita wistfully. 

Sugar looked down at her lap. "It's just a matter of time before..."

"Before?" asked Carmine softly.

Sugar shrugged, and looked up at the other four girls, her face devoid of emotion. "I'm not sure."

~*~

All the girls were asleep in the room. Carmine and Ariella had declared themselves too tired to go to their own room, even though it was directly across the hall. Carmine was draped over their chaise lounge, looking like she had posed herself; and Ariella had taken over Sugar's bed, sleeping with her hand under her cheek.

Bella looked like a princess on her elegant sleigh bed, her golden hair framing her face, making her look truly angelic, and Karita's blissful expression on her pretty face made sleep look like a good idea.

Sugar could not sleep. She was sitting on the floor, immersed in her thoughts. Snapping out of her reverie, she stretched childishly, and then reached into the bedstand drawer.

There was wooden box, with a tin heart on the top. It had belonged to Sugar's mother, and it meant a great deal to her.

She opened the box, and her eyes were accosted by the unearthly glow of diamonds. 

It was well-known that the "Sweetheart" of the Rouge had an infatuation with diamonds and nothing else, and that was invariably what the men paid her in. It was true that when she arrived, she had been astounded by the diamonds, but now she was almost tired of them. Every other girl had a dazzling array of all sorts of trinkets and different stones, and Sugar always (and only) got diamonds.

The only time she had ever gotten something else was when a kindly older gentleman whose young wife had just died came to the Rouge in search of comfort, and found Sugar. The next day a box appeared at the Rouge addressed to her. In it was a diamond the size of her fist- made of rock candy.

She reminded herself of how far she had come- from a ragamuffin to a street urchin to- well, whatever she was today. Most girls would've died on the streets, but not Sugar. She might have frail health, but damn it all if she wasn't determined.

Sugar had no great aspirations of leaving, like all the other girls did, Karita in particular. Sugar knew her station. She knew she was lucky to be where she was, and would probably remain there until she died.

She pushed the diamonds aside, and felt along the bottom of the box. She fond what she was looking for, and pulled out the wooden rosary.

"Goodnight, Maman." She said softly, kissing the wooden beads.

She placed it beneath the heap of the icy stones, and slid the bow back where it belonged.

Sugar yawned, and decided to attempt sleep again. Just as she had pushed the sleeping Ariella over and was sliding between the sheets, there was a loud scream.

Ariella shot up, her flailing arm wacking Sugar soundly across the face. Bella was so startled she fell ungracefully from her bed on top of the two girls on the floor. Karita sat up and demanded loudly while everyone had disturbed her dream, she had been having such a nice one, and Carmine just sat aside, watching the melée of Ariella, Bella and Sugar with interest.

When the three had disentangled themselves, and the noise of the four talking ones had died down, they heard hurried footsteps in the hall and the voices of all the Diamonds Dogs, Harold, and every prostitute in the Rouge.

And then, above it all, Satine's voice could be heard.

All five girls tiptoed to the door, and nervously peeked their heads out. They must have looked quiet amusing, one head on top of the other.

Satine stood in the midst of the fray, clutching her red silk robe to her throat as she directed people around. The acrid scent of smoke reached the girls, and they started to cough.

At the noise, Satine turned to them. Her eyes widened. "Girls! Get out of there!" Without hesitation, she pulled the door open and began to usher them out.

"What is it?" asked Bella.

"A fire." Informed Satine. "Now, get out."

"My- but my-" objected Karita.

"It's alright, you can get it later." Said Satine, prodding her out.

"I need to get-"started Carmine.

"Not now," Satine said. "Now, be good girls and go!"

Ariella held back. "But, my-" 

Satine blew a strand of her hair back. "Get out! It'll be fine!"

Karita, who had made it down the hall, came back. "Is Sugar with you?"

The three girls looked around. "No."

Satine looked at them disbelievingly. "Please tell me Sugar's a cat."

"The little one." Explained Ariella. Bella held her hand up to her shoulder to indicate Sugar's height.

"Strawberry blonde-" supplied Carmine.

The group separated as Chocolat ran by carrying a bucket of water, which he handed to Harold, who, in his long underwear, was throwing water in the room next to theirs. His face was bright red, and his flaming hair stood out in all directions.

Satine clicked a maribou-feathered-clad foot. "I'll get her. YOU need to get out. OUT!"

"Satine, we can't leave without her-"

"She's awfully spooked. She gets scared easily-"

"She's probably cowering somewhere-"

"She'll come with us!"

Harold looked over his shoulder at the noise. "What are you still doing here?" he bellowed! "Sacre bleu! My beautiful Moulin is burning down, and mes bijous are NOT going down with it. OUT!" He motioned to Chocolat, and the big man began pushing them out. 

"Demoiselles, this way. On y va. Maintenant, s'il vous plait. Allez! Allez!"

Satine stood in front of the door. A tell-tale plume of smoke snaked out form under it, teasing the hem of her robe and dancing playfully around her feet. Taking a deep breath, Satine opened the door and went it.

Black smoke billowed in the room, as Sugar felt around blindly. The smoke made her eyes tear.

The box and the rosary were all Sugar had left of her family. She was not leaving without it. She hit something, and she realized dimly it was the footboard of Bella's bed. She had to be close.

"Sugar!" came a voice through the oily smoke, which Sugar barely recognized. She kept moving forward until a perfectly manicured hand streaked with soot reached out and grabbed one of her braids.

"OWWWWW!" howled Sugar, her hands reaching back to attack whoever had yanked her braid and felt ridiculously soft but gritty hands.

She turned to find herself facing the Sparkling Diamond herself.

In spite of the situation, Sugar was awed by the sight of Satine. Even in the smoky room, Satine looked like she had spent hours preparing of this very occasion. Her gorgeous hair held up with a loose ribbon, and the red silk stood out brilliantly.

Satine, however, was looking at her like she belonged in a mental hospital. "Are you out of your senses?" she asked politely.

"I- I n- I need-" stuttered Sugar.

"Whatever it is, you'll replace it."

"My-"

"Honestly, you silly little girl, you're risking your life!" Satine began pulling her back towards the door. Both were coughing, but Sugar resisted.

"All I have of my mother is in this room!"

Satine stopped. "This is insanity." She said in a defeated voice.

Sugar lunged across the room and grabbed the box that she had been holding in her lap minutes before. She ran her fingers over the tin heart, and Satine grabbed her arm. "We've got to go," she gasped.

Sugar nodded- the heat was unbearable. Wisps of her hair were plastered against her neck and forehead with sweat, and her eyes stung.

The room- which normally seemed so small, being as it was that 13 young women shared it- suddenly was miles long. The vanity they had sat at, their closet, filled with the multitudes of dresses shared betwixt Karita and Bella and the ones worn by Sugar herself, the ivory combs and elaborate hair clips, the pots of rouge and the pitcher of icy cold water Bella insisted on to 'refresh her skin'. Sugar's whole life was being collected and destroyed in one horrible night.

A flame shot through the wall behind them, and Sugar saw Karita's bed get engulfed by flames. There was the door, and Satine yelped at the scorching doorknob when it touched her fair hands. She would sport a practically invisible scar from that for the rest of her life from that night.

At the same time when Satine and Sugar emerged, the fire brigade, having been asleep, arrived, with their powerful hoses of water thanks to Napoleon's advanced thoughts in sewage systems. The fire in the two rooms were quickly put out.

It turned out later that a clumsy girl named Charlotte had knocked over her oil lamp and started the fire. It had spread to Sugar's room because it had the misfortune of being next to it. No one dared to reprimand Charlotte for her stupidity because the poor girl's hair had gone up in flames, and only quick thinking by Satine had put it out.

Down in the Elephant garden waited the people of the Rouge, including Bella, Karita, Carmine and Ariella, who were relieved to find their friend had survived- and were completely aghast when they found that she had gone back for a box of diamonds.

"Darling, Harold would take care of us, you know that!" admonished Bella.

"And we'd have taken care of you, Sugar baby." Stated Karita. 

"You should've stayed with us. You scared us!" said Carmine, and in a burst of emotion, she embraced Sugar.

"She was just scared, weren't you, Sugar sweet?" asked Ariella understandingly.

Satine pushed back a strand of her hair exasperatedly. "The important thing is that she's alright."

Sugar pushed away from Carmine. She looked up at star of the Moulin Rouge, with the sudden realization and very real possibility that Satine might hate her.

Satine let out a sigh, and tapped her foot. "We're going to be a wreck tonight."

In the distance, Charlotte burst into tears as it hit her that not only had she caused so much trouble, but that her hair was gone. 

Satine motioned over to her, and it was understood that she was going over there. She looked at Sugar, and the small girl trembled.

Satine smiled at her, and with a wink, was gone.

Harold arrived outside. He announced that the fire was out, and that the damage was small and that repairs would be made within the week.

Karita, of course, was rather upset that her bed had been destroyed.


	6. Blossoming Love

Chapter 6: Blossoming Love  
  
Seventy-two. . . seventy-three. . . Carmine continued to brush her hair doggedly, her jaw set. Ariella glanced up from her vanity to watch her friend, her emerald eyes alight with worry. Carmine hadn't said a word since stalking in at four, and had stormed around the tiny room, nearly destroying everything she got her hands on. Now she was hard at work on her ripping out her hair. Ariella sighed and went back to organizing her makeup. Carmine got into these moods occasionally, when a customer had pushed things a little too far or another dancer had been just a little too bitchy.   
  
Strange, though, that it was happening now. Carmine had seemed very pleased with what had been happening at the Moulin. She now had a regular patron in Vincent Latour, and the man was fairly young and not bad looking at all. Her slender purse and rattling jewelry box was rapidly filling-- evidently the man had cash to burn. But tonight Carmine had thrown the velvet box she'd returned with on the table, not even pausing to share the sight with Ariella.   
  
Carmine finished her hundred strokes and sighed. She buried her face in her hands and turned to Ariella. Ariella sat up straight and waited.   
  
How was tonight, Aries? she asked calmly, and the younger girl relaxed. It couldn't be too serious, then. Carmine had nicknamed her that within a week of sharing the same room. She was like an older sister to Ariella, and the two were especially close. Friendships like theirs-- and with the other girls across the hall-- were uncommon in the Moulin Rouge. There was too much back-biting and competition to get to know each other, but the five of them didn't bother with that. They were too busy fighting off attempts from the older dancers to knock them out of the club.  
  
All right, Ariella answered, a little cautiously. Although the tension seemed to have bled out of Carmine's voice, something was obviously wrong.   
  
And Jonathan?   
  
He's fine.   
  
He's a nice boy, Carmine said absently. Did he bring you flowers again tonight? Ariella nodded, a smile appearing on her face.   
  
Yes. I left them with Sugar. She's still upset over the fire, poor thing.   
  
I don't blame her, Carmine said, her voice softening as she thought of the fourteen year old. Did anyone ever get out of her why she went back?   
  
I think the box belonged to her mother, Ariella said quietly. Carmine said nothing for a moment, but her face revealed her empathy for Sugar.   
  
Poor little thing.   
  
Yes. . . Carmine, what is it? she asked exasperatedly, fed up with this game of small talk. First you come in ready to murder someone, and then you ask me about flowers. What is going on?   
  
Carmine's lips twitched and she reached for the velvet box. She traced her fingers over it lightly, and then slowly cracked it open.  
  
she said in return. I'll show you.   
  
The box slipped open to reveal an absolutely breathtaking necklace and tiara. Ariella gasped involuntarily, her finger reaching out to touch the jewels. A herringbone strand of diamonds circled the surface, and towards where Carmine's collarbone would begin, there were large diamonds spaced apart. In the very centre of the necklace, there were three huge rubies, the last one a teardrop the size of half her thumb. The jewels sparkled dimly in the candlelight--Carmine, like Sugar, preferred the soft glow of the flame. The tiara echoed the necklace in design. The gems would fit Carmine's glossy black hair and golden-brown skin perfectly. Ariella barely managed to tear her eyes away from the jewels.   
  
Where did you. . .?   
  
Carmine said softly. He gave them to me tonight. Her eyes drifted off into the distance, remembering the occasion. . .   
  
Carmine had been sitting before the mirror in a filmy robe and corset, absorbed in repairing her makeup and hair. She flicked her earrings that Vincent had given her last week, admiring the way the diamonds and rubies shone. Perfect. She hunted up her cold cream and began applying it to her hands when she was startled by Vincent coming up behind her.   
  
she laughed weakly. I'm sorry, I thought you were asleep.   
  
He didn't respond, but just plucked the small cylinder off the table. He turned it over in his hands, his mind obviously somewhere else.   
  
he said finally. Very nice.   
  
It's really Bella's, Carmine said slowly, turning to face him. Mine ran out last week and I didn't have time to get a new one. I imagine she'll be a bit annoyed when she discovers that it's gone. She smiled crookedly. But you didn't come over to find out where I get my cosmetics, did you?  
  
Vincent answered. He held out a black velvet box. I-- I want you to have this. Carmine raised a quizzical eyebrow and opened it. When she saw what was inside, she gasped.   
  
This-- where did you-- why--  
  
Vincent smiled openly then. For Carmine to lose her control of her voice meant that this had really affected her. So much for the myth of the blasé courtesan. And her voice hadn't risen to an unbearable level. He'd never imagined that a woman from the Moulin Rouge could possess such elegance, class, and beauty. Her lovely face and the fire in her kisses had drawn him in far deeper than he ever expected to go.   
  
It was a pity that Marie couldn't have those attributes along with the money her dowry had consisted of. But wasn't that what the girls at the Rouge were for? A wife for the money, a courtesan for the love. Carmine's love was expensive-- the contents of the box proved that-- but it was worth it.   
  
I understood it was, shall we say, proper to give the woman you love gifts.   
  
But this-- Carmine stopped abruptly. What did you say? she whispered intensely. Had she heard the right thing? Vincent rested a hand on her shoulder, breathing heavily.   
  
I love you, he said, using the pet name he'd developed for her. You're the most beautiful woman in the world. . . and you really are mine, He lifted her chin and kissed her, even as her heart was sinking. For a brief, painful moment, she'd imagined that he'd loved her. . . really loved her for who she was. . .  
  
She should have known better.   
  
Carmine? Carmine, are you even listening to me? Why does this bother you?   
  
I don't know, she answered Ariella softly, her voice filled with frustration. I don't know! Aries, I need to go for a walk. I'll be back soon, all right? She stood abruptly, and almost ran out of the room, pulling her shawl around her. She ran through the halls, her hair flying behind her in a steady ebony stream. She finally reached the cool night air of the garden, and sank down on a bench.   
  
Ariella was right. This shouldn't bother her. But it did. She angrily slammed her hand against the tree trunk.   
  
she screamed out into the night, her voice raw. She should have known better than to slip up like that. Hadn't her mother taught her anything?   
  
Carmine de Blanchett had been born in the slums of Paris to a Spanish mother and a French father. She had inherited her mother's beauty and talent, and the woman had scraped to put Carmine through dance and acting lessons. Carmine would be an chorus girl in the opera ballet, and then rise to become a full-fledged actress. Her exotic looks would serve her well. But when Carmine had been barely fourteen, her mother had died. Perhaps that was why she was so fond of Sugar. The frightened little girl reminded her so much of herself at that time. Her father had neither the money nor the inclination to continue Carmine's lessons, and the opening in the ballet had slipped away from her. So there she was, trained to be on the stages of Paris, doing laundry for the bourgeois. Was it any wonder Carmine had wandered to the Moulin Rouge? She had been born to be on stage. The common life was not for her. Or so Mama had told her.   
  
But somewhere in between her lessons and her mother's work to keep her daughter beautiful, Carmine had become a dreamy hopeless romantic. Ironic, wasn't it, that the girl who seemed born to be a smoldering temptress was a wilting flower at heart? She had craved love desperately, but her pride had always stayed stiff. She would not allow herself to fall for some Bohemian musician. But a wealthy man. . . no, there were no rules against that.   
  
Vincent is married, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. And he's not the sort of man to cast aside any of his social standing for a mistress. Especially not a common whore from the Moulin Rouge.   
  
But that didn't mean that they couldn't be happy. She would make him fall in love with her. She had to. He was a man of intelligence and taste, and she would make him see there was more to her than a pretty face and a pair of open legs. And a mistress to a man like him would live in a great deal of luxury.   
  
There was one more factor that Carmine dared not admit, even to herself. She loved him. Loved him for his taste, his judgment. He was civilized and clean. Every remark betrayed his intelligence and education. Carmine had always loved the better things in life. Silks, jewels, theatre, art, and music. Perhaps one day Vincent would take her to the opera. Perhaps. . . perhaps, one day, he would be her patron for the opera. A shiver ran down her spine.   
  
He would take her away from the Moulin Rouge and give her back her rightful place in life. Carmine de Blanchett, the famous opera singer. And behind the scenes, the lover of Vincent Latour. Not his mistress, his lover. They would meet as equals away from the nightclub. He would pick the Spanish Rose and transplant her in new and better soil.   
  
Carmine lips curved up in a contented smile and the turmoil she had felt before dissolved into peace. She pulled her shawl back around her shoulders and threw her head up. The squalor of the backstage of the Moulin Rouge didn't bother her this time. She threw open the door to their rooms and hit the disused electric switches. All four girls immediately sat up. Karita hit her head on the rod near her makeshift bed and let out a stream of very unladylike curses.   
  
Bella snapped, vainly trying to cover her eyes. What the hell are you playing at?   
  
What's going on? Ariella had luckily only been a little bit asleep, and was relived at the joyous expression on Carmine's face. Carmine threw her arms up and posed against the bright light. Sugar giggled and clapped her hands at the sight of Carmine madly dancing and throwing her sleek black tresses around.   
  
Vincent. Latour. Is. Going. To. Fall. In. Love. With. Me, she announced proudly. The girls looked at each other for a long moment.   
  
Karita said, snapping the light off. Now go to bed.   
  
No, you don't underst-- Ariella dragged Carmine off to their room and shut the door. Suddenly and impulsively, she hugged the older girl.   
  
We understand, Carmine. Now go get some sleep. You can't make a man fall in love with a dead girl. Not even you, the ultimate smoldering temptress. Now go to bed.   
  
Carmine did go to bed, but it was doubtful whether she slept much. For the first time in nearly five years, she had a reason to live for. She was in love. And this-- this beautiful, dizzying feeling wasn't forbidden. It was all right to fall in love with a wealthy man that would bathe this rose in better sunlight.   
  
Carmine didn't realize one thing. If you pick a rose, it will wither away.   
  
Even in a crystal vase. 


	7. Only One Rule

Chapter 7: Only One Rule

  
  


"Girls, the world must be flat," Karita announced to Sugar, Ariella, and Carmine with flourish. 

"Why's that?" Airella asked, twirling a strand of fiery hair around her index finger.

"Bella hasn't talked for the last, count 'em, TWO minutes," Karita proclaimed dramatically, putting her right hand to her forehead and falling weakly into her chair. Unfortunately, her 'weak' fall held just a bit too much force-the chair went toppling backwards, and Karita fell, sprawled, onto the ground of the Moulin Rouge garden.

Ariella, Sugar, Bella, and Carmine immediately burst into hysterical laughter, and Sugar offered a hand to her.

"Graceful, Karita," Nini called from across the garden, where she stood with Arabia and China doll smoking cigarettes. "No wonder the men don't flock around you, if you're that clumsy in bed."

"Oh, Nini," Karita said, her voice drenched with false admiration, "I'm sorry. I wish I was as talented a whore as you! It's my dream, really."

Nini opened her heavily-lipsticked mouth to snap back a reply when the doors of the dance hall swung open, revealing Satine. Immediately, the diamond dog's dark eyes began to sparkle deviously; Bella halfway expected her to begin rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

"Aw, look, it's our Diamond!" Nini drawled. "Inside so early? Why, it's barely the crack o' dawn! But I s'pose that's what Harry's little favorite has to do to keep him satisfied."

China Doll and Arabia began to snicker appreciatively, and Bella felt a wave of intense loathing wash through her as she waited for Satine to make a biting remark in return. 

However, the only thing she said was a weak, "That's not true."

"Aww, sure it ain't, Princess," Nini said with an exaggerated wink. "Now, really, do you expect us to believe that? I mean, we're just as, if not more talented than you. We just aren't so desperate for the job that we'll fuck a man two times our age and three times our body weight-"

"Nini, you'd fuck a DONKEY to get ahead here, and everyone knows it." 

Bella's angry, dangerously audacious tone rung out across the garden, and everyone else immediately fell silent.

"Now, really," Bella continued, taking a few steps towards Nini, "There's no reason to be rude to Satine just because she has enough class to stay involved with her own SPECIES, with the exception of Harold, who, by the way, is HAPPILY married to Marie and would never do such a thing."

"There's no such thing as happily married," Nini sneered. "You're a child; don't you even try to understand the real world, sweet'eart."

"I've probably been in worse shit than you've ever dreamed of, sweet'eart," Bella retorted evenly.

"Aw, I doubt that, Angel girl," Nini said tauntingly. "And what the hell are you thinking, trying to suck up to the Sparkling Diamond? She doesn't talk to the little people."

Satine narrowed her bright blue eyes at Nini, but didn't dare say anything.

Putting a hand to her chest, Nini continued, "I, personally, haven't ever met such a heartless bitch."

"You obviously don't know YOURSELF very well, Nini," Karita piped up angrily, putting a hand on her waist.

"Oooh," Nini drawled, "The little future parlor wife speaks up. Honey, why don't you go have a cuppa tea? You don't belong here."

"I'd tell you to go to hell," Karita said sweetly, "But I think you'd enjoy it there."

"Ain't it sweet, Satine?" Nini asked slyly. "I mean, all these little can-can girls are sticking up for you! But I can't help but wonder...do you even know their names?"

Everyone's eyes fell upon Satine, and she remained silent. 

Biting her lip, Bella counted the seconds.

One...two...three...four...five...six...seven....

"Aw well," Nini drawled, "Looks like she doesn't ca-"

"That's Bella," Satine interrupted, gesturing towards Bella. "And Karita. And Ariella, Sugar, and Carmine." A sweet smile stretched out across her perfect face. "Any other questions, Nini?"

Nini scowled, muttered something under her breath, and stomped off into the dance hall, China Doll and Arabia behind her giggling to each other.

"Thank you, girls," Satine said gratefully, sinking down with nonchalant grace into an empty chair. "Normally, I would have been able to handle her, but...I just haven't been feeling well lately, and-"

"No problem," Bella cut her off with a smile. 

Satine flashed a smile back, looking genuinely relieved.

"Thanks again," she said. "It's so nice to have people to talk to-"

"Chickpea!" 

Harold's voice rung out across the garden as he pushed open the doors of the dance hall. 

Satine immediately sat up a bit straighter and called back in a smooth, professional tone, "Yes, Harold?"

It was a strange thing to witness...almost as if they'd been watching her transform into someone else.

Which, of course, was what the Sparkling Diamond had to be able to do.

Which pretty much covered why Nini wasn't the Sparkling Diamond. Bella was sure that Nini had only one personality, and that was the bitch queen.

"Did you want to sing Sparkling Diamonds or Red Room tonight?" Harry called.

"They're putting Red Room in the show?" Sugar asked in interest. The five of them had made up the lyrics on a whim jokingly a few months before, and it had become their signature song. Thanks to it, they were known to the customers of the Moulin as the Red Room Diamonds or, as Harold had become accustomed to calling them, the Great Red Room Rubies. 

Satine nodded. "You girls don't mind, do you? Harold mentioned something about you making it up..."

"No, no, it's fine," Carmine said quickly. 

"Satine!" Harry called again.

"I'd better be going," Satine said, sounding a bit reluctant. "I'll see you later."

A chorus of farewells rang out from the table from the assorted Red Room Diamonds as Satine got up and walked over to Harry.

"She's a sweetheart," Karita announced as soon as the Diamond was out of earshot. 

All the other girls nodded in agreement.

"But...did you see how she just...changed when Harry talked to her?" Sugar asked, eyes wide. "It was like the girl that was there a second ago just completely disappeared. It was kind of...creepy."

"She's an amazing actress," Ariella proclaimed.

"She wants to be one," Carmine piped up. "An actress, I mean. A famous one."

"How do you know?" Bella asked, interested.

"I heard her talking to Marie a while ago," Carmine responded. "She wants to be the next Sarah Bernhardt." 

"I'm sure she could be," Sugar said. 

A silence fell over the table, broken by Karita who asked, "Now, Bella, why so quiet?"

Bella felt a blush rise to her cheeks, and she looked down, causing her blonde curls to tumble over her flaming face and hopefully hide it from her friends.

"It's just...that American man that was visiting," Bella said, "You know, Andrew Johnson."

"Ooh, you remember his name," Ariella said teasingly. "Must be serious."

"Shut up," Bella commanded, looking up long enough to stick her tongue out at her. "It's just...he paid me for over a week just to talk to him. To TALK to him, for God's sake! And I sort of...well, I liked him. He was sweet and funny...a good conversationist."

"Whoo," Karita said with a devilish grin. "Bella's in lo-ove."

"And Karita's not?" Bella snapped. "But then...a while ago, he kissed me. And then things just went...downhill from that, if you know what I mean. And when he thought I was sleeping, he whispered, and I QUOTE, 'I love you, Beauty. I'm going to get you out of here'."

"Beauty?" Carmine interrupted with an amused smile.

Bella felt the cursed blush come back to her cheeks, and she mumbled, embarrassed, "That's what he called me. Little pet name thing..."

She could feel all of their eyes on her, and she hurriedly continued with her story.

"Then when I wake up, HE'S gone, and the only thing that was there was rose and a stack of francs. He hasn't come back since."

Sugar immediately wrapped her arms around Bella.

"I mean, I know I shouldn't care," Bella said, then decided to rephrase it. "I DON'T care."

The response to that statement was four extremely skeptical looks.

"Well, I don't care MUCH," Bella said huffily, "But the point IS, he said he loved me! You can't just say you love a girl and then LEAVE her."

"But to most men, we're not girls," Ariella pointed out bitterly. "We're just courtesans."

"I mean, they come stomping in ready for a good time," Carmine started.

"Here we are now, entertain us!" Karita mimicked, warbling horribly off-key. Bella couldn't help but laugh.

"But then they promise us more," Carmine continued. "And they just don't get that we're people too...we have feelings."

Bella snorted. "I doubt that crosses their mind. To them, we're just diamond-obsessed whores."

She began to bat her eyelashes at a frightening rate and sing in a ridiculously breathy tone.

"Meet us in the red room, close the door and dim the lights!"

"We're the Great Red Room Rubies so you'd better treat us nice," Sugar threw in laughingly.

"Buy us diamonds, rubies too!" Carmine instructed.

"You might like us but we don't like you!" Karita threw in.

"Classic Karita," Bella laughed. 

Ariella finished, "Karita, Ariella, Sugar, Carmine, and Bella...too."

"You can't rhyme too with you and then with too again!" Karita protested.

"Try and stop me, Miss Poetess," Ariella challenged. 

"Oooh, be afraid, Scarlet Starlet," Karita said, lowering her voice several octaves. "Be VERY afraid."

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my shoes."

"I bet you are."

"Girls, girls, break it up," Sugar instructed, giggling. "We don't want any cat fighting going on now, do we?"

Karita hissed over-exaggeratedly at Ariella, who made a scratching motion with her right hand in return.

Bella forced a laugh, but she couldn't bring herself to completely forget about Andrew. A sinking realization washed over her as she watched Karita and Ariella attempt to battle to the death.

She missed him.

  
  


~*~

  
  


"Now, my little girlies, before you go out to dance tonight, there's something that Uncle Harold needs to tell you!" Harry announced in his usual jovial manner as he adjusted his top hat.

"What is it, Harold?" Karita shouted.

"Don't keep us in suspense!" Bella added dramatically. 

This resulted in a round of laughter from the other girls, and Harold chuckled to himself as he waited for the noise to die down.

"Now," he started, "All of you know that I've wanted to transform the Moulin Rouge into a theater for quite some time now, and I have excellent news. The Duke of Monroth is coming to the club in a month or so, and he just may consider paying the finances for the transformation!"

The room immediately erupted in cheers and the swishing noise of can-can skirts as the girls jumped up and down in delight. 

"Now let's get out there and can-can-can!" Harold shouted, leading the girls out into the club with his signature roar of, "Can you can can can?"

The crowd immediately erupted into lustful whoops and cheers, and Bella began to wave her pale pink skirt in time to the other girls. As she had on so many previous nights, her eyes scanned the crowd anxiously while she put her body on autopilot, singing along and performing her moves to perfection.

"I just can't get you outta my head," she proclaimed in unison with the others, still searching...where was he, for God's sake? Would he ever come back?

"Boy, your loving is all I think about..."

God, please let him be here, Bella prayed silently. Just let him be here...

However, all her hopes were crushed by the time they finished their number and Satine made her grand entrance on her trapeze, clad in a burgundy corset and matching top hat.

"I'll meet you in the red room," she purred seductively, "Close the door and dim the lights..."

Deciding that no one would miss her now, seeing as the spotlight was on Satine, Bella lifted up her can-can skirt and began to walk through the crowd. She could hear Sugar hissing, "Where are you going?" from behind her, but didn't turn around.

She was studying all the men sitting in the booths when suddenly she felt herself slam into someone, and her eyes fell upon them at once. It was one of the men that had always accompanied Andrew there.

"Is Andrew here tonight?" Bella asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"He's somewhere," his friend responded, not taking his eyes away from Satine as he replied.

"Thanks," Bella muttered. Where was he? Where was he?

Suddenly, she felt a strange tingling sensation seem to run through her body. Someone was watching her. She knew it. It was him.

An unexpected wave of panic ran through her, and Bella did the first thing that her mind thought of: ran. 

Yes, she wanted to see him, but there was no way she could face him now! Not after he'd told her he loved her and then just...left.

She turned around to see him watching her intently. As soon as their eyes locked, the whole club seemed to fall silent. It was as though everyone had frozen in place, leaving only Andrew and herself...

"Among the many muted faces," she sang softly, "You try to find me in the spaces; you're drawn to my song."

"You only move to keep from sinking," she heard Andrew's voice respond. She immediately broke their stare and studied the floor intently.

"You close your eyes as if you're thinking," Andrew continued, his voice growing louder, "Afraid all along that in my eyes so revealing you'll find what you're needing."

Bella couldn't bring herself to move, even though she knew that the wise thing would be to leave right now, so she'd never have to see his face again. Never have to live with these strange emotions. 

"Nothing but pennies in my pocket!" Andrew sang out, his voice ringing over all the chatter and Satine's seductive purr. Still, no one seemed to notice them. They all kept their rapt, undivided attention on the Diamond. "Nothing but faith to keep me warm! Well, baby then I'd be broke without it...tell me, how much for your love?"

Against her will, Bella stared up at him, then immediately knew she shouldn't have. It was as though he'd cast a spell on her: she knew somehow that she'd never be able to look away.

"Slip my heart in your back pocket, all that I've got to keep me warm," she returned, "So baby, don't leave me here without it."

"Tell me, how much for your love," Andrew repeated. 

Bella tilted her head slightly towards the doors, then made her way outside without waiting for him to join her. She stood out in the garden and breathed in a bit of the smoke-filled air, waiting...

Sure enough, moments later Andrew emerged from the club and, without a word, wrapped his arms around her. 

Bella didn't resist, and kissed him willingly. However, she couldn't ignore a teeny voice in the back of her head repeating the same phrase over and over.

'No laws

No limits

Only one rule...

...Never fall in love.'

  
  
  
  


Songs Used

Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana

Meet Me In The Red Room by Amiel (reworded by moi. *mwahaha*) 

Can't Get You Outta My Head by Kylie Minogue

In My Pocket by Mandy Moore


	8. Jealousy Will Drive You Mad

Chapter 8:  
  
A/N: Yes, the Prince of Wales did visit the Moulin Rouge sometimes. (It's in the Moulin Rouge book if you don't believe me!) We'll pretend he liked Karita, okay? This took me so long to write; it does get a little graphic.  
  
  
  
Carmine, Sugar, Bella, Ariella, and Karita were, as they always seemed to do at night, at their vanities, primping. Karita lined her blue eyes with dark kohl borrowed from Carmine, who seemed especially moody tonight.  
  
"Mina, what's wrong?" She asked, running her hands through her amber- colored hair.  
  
"N-nothing," Carmine stammered. "I'm fine." Each girl could tell that their Spanish Rose wasn't fine at all. Sometime was nagging on her mind.  
  
"How do I look?" Asked Ariella, twirling about in a dress the color of her emerald eyes. It was a shame, thought Karita, that someone that dazzlingly beautiful was stuck here at the Moulin Rouge. It was a shame for all of the girls at the Moulin Rouge; beauty squandered, intelligence crushed, reduced to a mere singing and dancing plaything.  
  
"Amazing," said Bella.  
  
"It isn't fair," Sugar echoed, brushing Carmine's hair with childlike fascination.  
  
When Karita had finished dressing, she stared at the mirror in a sort of trancelike contemplation, ignoring the chatter of her friends around her. The girl staring back was pretty; gleaming hair, sapphire, accentuated eyes, creamy skin. But she wasn't satisfied. The wings on the back of her dress fluttered as she stood and went out to the little balcony, tilting her head back so the Parisian wind could flow through her hair.  
  
A screech from Bella interrupted her solitude. "Rita! Rita! Harold's here and he's asking for YOU!"  
  
"Me?" Karita peeked through the doorway to see Bella in a state of undress, using that notoriously loud, brassy voice to call her friend in. She giggled slightly, frustrating Bella.  
  
"YES! Get your bloody arse in here, Rita!"  
  
"Yes, Harold?" A coquettish look from Karita made the ringmaster of the Moulin Rouge smile.  
  
"There's a man coming tonight who wants a night with you."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"He specifically requested the Muse, and that is you, if I'm not mistaken."  
  
Karita nodded. "Who is he?"  
  
"The Prince of Wales."  
  
"What?!?" She shrieked. "The PRINCE?"  
  
"Keep your voice down."  
  
"Harold, you have got to be joking."  
  
"I'm dead serious."  
  
"Tonight? Oh God, Harold. I can't do that tonight!"  
  
"In the Red Room. Right after the show. We'll be expecting you, Karita. Don't forget. This is a big venture for the Rouge, and it all depends upon you."  
  
He left her there, heart pounding, butterflies fluttering madly in her stomach.  
  
  
  
She was quiet while the rest of the girls finished dressing. Sugar's adept hands styled her hair in the most fashionable way, but Karita didn't care about her appearance. She was too worried for Teddy's reaction; an event like this had never happened before. The Prince of Wales, Queen Victoria's SON, was coming to the Moulin Rouge. And he wanted HER.  
  
"Teddy, I can't see you tonight," she said when he made his nightly visit to her apartment.  
  
"Why?" His face was pained and he fingered her hair softly.  
  
"I have. . .business."  
  
"With whom?"  
  
"N-no one important."  
  
"You're stammering, Katie. Who are you seeing tonight?"  
  
"The. . .Prince of Wales." Her blue eyes stared into his, swimming with tears. "I'm sorry, Teddy. Please, don't be angry."  
  
"I understand, Katie. It's your job."  
  
"I love you, Teddy."  
  
His face went pale and she shut the door softly.  
  
  
  
"After midnight, we're gonna let it all hang out," sang the girls seductively, sashaying to their dance partners. "After midnight, we're gonna let it all . . ." A flash of split panties made the gentlemen reel back in erotic shock. "Hang out."  
  
Karita's mind was not on her dancing. She was torn between her feelings for Teddy and her job, the promises she'd made to Harold, promises she couldn't break. Shaking off these thoughts and putting on her mask of seductive happiness, she sought out the Prince of Wales.  
  
He wasn't as nearly as handsome as Teddy, but when he set eyes on her, his eyes lit up with desire. Karita sidled up to him so that her skin barely grazed his and whispered into his ear, "You're going to meet me in the red room, aren't you?"  
  
He stuttered, "Y-y-es, I-I am."  
  
She laughed gaily and let the feathers of her costume tickle his skin. "I'm looking forward to it."  
  
But inside, her heart was sinking.  
  
It was far, far after midnight when Karita made her way up to the infamous Red Room. Her feet felt heavier than stone, for all she could think about was Teddy.  
  
There was the Prince of Wales, seated nervously on the extravagant red- velvet draped bed, waiting for her. Using Satine's key line, Karita breathed, "I believe you've been expecting me."  
  
"Y-yes."  
  
"Then you won't mind if I change into something a little more-" Karita paused and a hot silence filled the air. "Comfortable?"  
  
"No, of course not."  
  
She slipped behind the sheer curtain and hurriedly removed her dress so all she wore was a raven-colored corset and the most exquisite hosiery available. Her hair that had been swept up neatly was now falling down in wisps of amber-colored curls, adding to the sex appeal she radiated. "How do I look?"  
  
He gulped hard, and Karita couldn't help laughing inwardly. "Champagne?" He asked her, extending a shaking hand holding a slim glass.  
  
"Why thank you." Karita swallowed the liquid down fast and wasted no time. Unpinning her hair, letting it fall about her shoulders sexily. "Now, Prince . . ." she lowered her voice to a whispery purr and leaned close to him so her corset would dip scandalously low. His eyes were glued to her. "Shall we get started?"  
  
  
  
Below the elephant, in the very quiet Moulin Rouge inhabited now only by Bohemians and Diamond Dogs, Teddy sat at the piano, taking slow drags of his cigarette, wondering what Karita was doing, shuddering at the thoughts that invaded his mind.  
  
"Lonely?" It was Sugar, sliding onto the bench beside him.  
  
Teddy was silent, so the sympathetic young girl put her arm comfortingly on his shoulder. "I know how you feel."  
  
Someone called her name, and the sweet child was gone. Teddy put his hands on the keys, feeling the silence of the Rouge, and began to play.  
  
From where she lay on the Red Room's velvet bed with it's satin sheets so many times used by the girls of the Rouge, underneath the thrusting body of the Prince of Wales, faking orgasm to please him, Karita could hear the strains of music. Haunting music that made her shudder: Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata." Teddy's hands were playing that eerie music, making her feel as guilty as she did. The nearly inaudible notes made her whole body quiver. The Prince, thinking he was pleasing her, thrusted harder into her aching body. Karita watched his face as he climaxed; the whites of his eyes were all she could see and all she could hear was his whimpering moans.  
  
Finally, it was over. He had collapsed beside her, breathing heavily, falling into hard sleep. Quietly, Karita slipped from the bed. After draping a light robe over herself and running a brush through her mussed hair, she left the elephant.  
  
There was nobody in the Moulin Rouge, lit only by the glimmer of three or four candles. Barefoot, Karita made no noise as she floated across the Moulin's shiny floors to the piano. He still sat there, hunched over the keys, eyes closed in fitful sleep.  
  
She sat beside him and listened to him breathe for a moment. And then, softly laying her long fingers on his cheek to wake him, Karita whispered in his ear, "I love you."  
  
And in the blue of his tear-clouded eyes, she knew he felt the same. 


	9. There is No Escape

Chapter 8 – There is No Escape

Dearest Mama,

How are you? Is everything all right back at home? It seems so long, too long, since I last wrote, even longer since I last saw you! Is papa well? Catrin? Seren? My little sisters are probably growing up so fast, and I can't even see them. It breaks my heart, but I could never go back to how it used to be! I bet most of the women back home would faint dreadfully if they knew what sorts of things go on here! As my beloved Toulouse says [he's a funny little man mama!], once you enter, there is no escape.

You wouldn't believe the exciting things that have happened over the past few weeks! There's a Duke arriving in the next few days, and Harold has been telling us that if all goes well, he'll finance the show that the bohemians are writing! I really hope that he's nice, for Satine's sake. Satine is the Sparkling Diamond, remember? She's ever so lovely, and a truly amazing actress! One time, Nini [Bitch Queen of France] was attacking her, and Satine had –all- the claws out! Then as soon as Harold popped his head around, she seemed to sort of change. It was like all the hatred melted and she became so sweet and perfect. It was quite surreal I can tell you! 

Satine's a real sweetie though when she's around with us. She does that a lot now; she likes to just sit in our room while we're getting ready and things like that. You wouldn't think it, would you, the Diamond hanging around with a lowly bunch like us! We're nothing compared to her; nothing compared to Nini for that matter!

I have two words to say to you:

****

Jonathon Parker

Mama, I do believe in love at first sight! Jon is everything and anything I could have ever dared to dream about. He's dashing, charming, sweet, adorable, funny, rich [cough! cough!], polite, caring and a million of other beautifully perfect adjectives! We met a few weeks ago, and since then my life has been in a whirl of rose-coloured happiness. We've been everywhere, for picnics, boat rides, horse rides, shopping trips; visits to Paris and I even stayed at his chateau in the countryside! It was only for a short weekend, but it was the most tranquil place I have ever been to. There were gorgeous flowers in bloom and the sun shone continually for the whole two days! We walked everywhere during the day holding hands and in the nights I rode in an expensive carriage! I felt like such a lady.

There is only one small problem: me. Whenever I am with him, I feel prickles of anticipation and anxiety for unknown reasons. I'm scared, and I'm not sure whether I truly love him. Without trust there is no love, yet I can't hide my feelings of trepidation and I can't stop feeling the way I do. I'm being pulled in two directions inside, my heart going one way while my head is taking me the other. 

In other news; love is in the air! Carmine, Bella, Karita and I are all infatuated with our latest men! Sugar has yet to meet someone, and to be truthful I am rather worried about her. She is only a year younger than I am; yet she seems to mature, yet at the same time, she seems to be still a child. There was a fire a few weeks ago, and Sugar went back for her mother's box of things. Now, the poor child keeps saying that she can smell smoke, and when we are all in the room I can see her looking around like a frightened rabbit, almost as if she's surrounded by invisible flames that will not go out. I am probably being over-sensitive, but Sugar is such a close friend of mine and I wouldn't know what to do if I lost her.

Carmine is mad with us all! Well, not really, but she's annoyed because we've started calling her 'Camrin' and 'Camrinita'. It was my fault, I had a bread roll in my mouth and when I called her, it came out like Camrin. Bella, Karita and Sugar heard me and now it's becoming a habit. Oops!

Ooh! How could I forget? Satine used our song in one of her performances! Do you remember the song that we all made up ages ago? The 'Red Room' song? Well, Harold adored it and now Satine uses it in her show! She wears the most gorgeous outfit, a burgundy corset and matching top hat, and when all the lights go out, the trapeze is lowered, a scarlet spotlight follows Satine while we all dance underneath! It's amazing, and I think it's the best song Satine does [I am not being biased! Honest I'm not!]

In other news, my skirt is has fallen apart! My beloved gypsy skirt is completely ruined, some club footed man stepped on the hem and now all the trinkets keep falling off when I'm dancing. It's a disaster! Luckily Bella gave me one of her old ones which I've updated, we're practically the same size, and it's beautiful! A midnight blue corset [now embroidered with sparkly stars] with a matching skirt, which has silver panels and ruffles echoing in the underskirt. I feel like a princess when I wear it! I'm also saving up for a new one, and I'll give you the longest letter when I finally get it! I'm looking for a red one; I need to live up to my 'Scarlet Starlet' title!

In more Jon news, he gave me the most beautiful necklace yesterday. It's real silver, with a choker of tiny silver leaves each embedded with real diamonds. The centre is a round blue sapphire which leads down to a pendant of more diamond leaves and at the very bottom is a giant midnight blue sapphire the size of my little finger. It's exquisite, and it matches my new can-can outfit perfectly! It must have cost an absolute fortune, but Jon says that I am worth it. He makes me blush, and believe me when I say that it's near impossible to do!

Well, I had better love you and leave you, seeing as I'm due on stage in a mere hour and you will not believe how hard it is to get my corset on! Give my love to everyone at home and tell them that I miss them with all my heart.

Love,

Ariella xxx


	10. Blood on the moon

Blood on the moon  


  
The room that had been so dark with smoke that night not so long ago was now bright with electricity. Behind her, Bella and Karita were obsessing over their appearance. Ariella came in to ask to borrow something-or-other, and before long Carmine joined the fray. The hum of their innocent chatter was calming to Sugar, and while she never liked to talk herself, she enjoyed listening to others.  
  
The room had been renovated to look better than before. Harold, who had felt guilty, had repapered the entire room in a pretty, lilac-spangled print.  
  
Sugar had been feeling melancholy the first day back, and had walked around the room trailing her fingers over the fresh paper again and again until Karita and Bella finally got irritated and asked her to stop.  
  
Sugar had stopped where she was, leaving her fingers where they were. She asked them in a breathy tone if they had ever thought that the lilacs on the paper would remain in the room long after they were gone.  
  
Karita and Bella had exchanged worried glances. Bella had opened her mouth to speak, but in a gardenia-scented whirl came Carmine and Ariella filled with chatter and amiability.   
  
That had been the week before, but Sugar could not shake the strange feeling that had lingered in her very bones since the fire. A dreading sense that filled her every time she looked at her dear friends who were so like her sisters. Charming Bella and sweet Ariella, darling Karita and caring Carmine- how would she be able to survive without them? They always swore that if anything were to happen, they would take care of her, but Sugar was still unsure. Everytime she grew anxious she asked herself why, but the answer would not come.   
  
The dread flooded up in her chest the worst whenever she saw Satine. Harold had announced the coming of a Duke, and the whole Moulin, especially Satine, was in a flurry of excitement. While it seemed that everyone enjoyed the commotion, Sugar couldn't help feeling as though she were trapped in a vortex that would consume them all.  
  
Earlier that day Bella had asked Sugar if she would let her do her hair, and Sugar had agreed. The elaborate hairstyle that had been achieved through a collaboration of Bella and Karita was beautiful, but Sugar still felt strange.  
  
The room she shared with the other two had been her sanctuary, and she had always felt very safe in there.  
  
Now, whenever she entered the room, she was greeted with flashes of the oily smoke. She could still smell the acrid smoke that permeated the walls, despite Harold's careful redecorating. No matter how many times they washed the sheets or aired the mattresses, Sugar could still smell it.  
  
The other girls claimed not to notice it before clucking their tongues worried and looking at one another with frightened looks.  
  
She sat in a green skirt of raw silk, with a cream-colored corset top embroidered with shamrocks. Ariella, who had noticed that Sugar hadn't been feeling quite right, declared that Sugar should be done like a princess that night.  
  
They decked her out with all her diamonds, and added each a little something of their own. Carmine lent her an ivory comb speckled with rubies for her hair; Karita supplied a lovely pair of emerald earrings; Ariella offered her a beautiful white chiffon shawl, and Bella let her use some of her perfume- or 'scent', she called it.  
  
Though Sugar knew they were just trying to help, she couldn't help but feeling like a doll. So, pleading a headache, she escaped to her windowseat (the vanity chair dragged over to their tiny window) and looked out.  
  
So while the girls chattered behind her, she looked out at the stars. The stars were comforting to her, but the moon was not.  
  
Sugar's mother had been nothing but a French peasant from a small country town, and very superstitious. Sugar, who had been only six when her parents died, just barely remembered her mother.  
  
Sugar had a very good memory from the time that she was 10. Before that, she had to make do with snatches of her childhood. It was her protection against the bad memories of her past, her hedge against heartbreak, her repressed memories that were only too happy to remain hidden, taking with them the good as well as the bad.  
  
~*~  
_Her mother had been standing outside her window, next to her father. She had crossed herself four times.  
  
"What are you seeing, Josephine?" asked her father, taking his wife's arm.  
  
""Blood on the moon."  
  
_Bella put her hands on her hips and let out a brassy laugh as Ariella began waving her skirts in front of Karita's half-powdered face. Carmine snorted and ducked the cushion hurled in her direction.   
  
_"Josephine-"_  
  
"If you wreck my hair, so help me--"  
  
_"Bad luck to come, Patrick."_  
  
"You'll do what, Camrinita?"   
  
"You know I hate that name."   
  
_Anne had crawled beside her at that moment, and pulled her younger sister away._  
  
"Camrinita-"  
  
"My name is Carmine! Not Camrin!"  
  
_"Anne, what does blood on the moon mean?"_  
  
"Camrin! Cammmmmmmrinnnnnnnnn-"  
  
_"It's just a funny thing Maman likes to say. Don't listen."  
  
_"Knock it!!"  
  
_"Why'd she cross herself four times?"_  
_  
_"Damn you all."_  
  
Anne had giggled and tucked her sister in. "One for you, one for me, one for Papa, and one for herself."  
_  
"CamriNITA!!!!!!!!!!!!"_  
  
"And that means good things, right, Anne?"  
  
_"Can't you torment someone else?"_  
  
"Of course, sweetness. Now, go to sleep, and dream pretty dreams."  
  
~*~_  
Sugar was not a superstitious. She never had been. Black cats didn't bother her, cracked mirrors were normal occurences, ladders were a part of every day life.  
  
But something about the moon touched deep within her, like a pebble rippling the surface of the pond of dread welled within her soul. The ripples spread until a dizzingly feeling reached her head, causing her to intake her breath sharply.  
  
"What is it?" cried the other girls, dropping what they were doing and running to Sugar, who was feeling strangely light-headed. She was unable to turn away from the disturbing moon.  
  
"Blood on the moon," she whispered. "Bad luck to come."  
  
~*~  
  
Sugar moved into the brisk spring evening from the hothouse-air of dance hall. No one would miss her. Any man who was interested in her would be equally as pleased to dance with any of the other girls. Carmine and Bella and Karita and Ariella all had dates to meet their beloveds at some point in time that evening, so it all worked out.  
  
Sugar tranversed the terrain around the garden of the Moulin. Walking up the gravel that crunched pleasantly under her feet, she heard the distinctly cultured voice of Satine swearing.  
  
She quickened her pace to try to outrun the irritating flame of worry that blossomed in her chest, licking her heart and making it beat faster.  
  
There was Satine in the corner of the garden. She turned guiltily when she heard Sugar approach, then smiled. "Oh, it's you, little one." she said softly, bringing her cigarette to her lips. She inhaled deeply, and then exhaled, a swirl of gray smoke dancing up to the stars. "How I hate cigarettes." she moaned softly. "Do you smoke?"  
  
Sugar shook her head softly, and a breeze whistled around her. She found herself grateful for Ariella's shawl.  
  
"Good." Satine said sharply. "Don't ever start. It's a disgusting habit. It burns, it smells, and it leaves a funny aftertaste." She made a face. "Like that. Positively horrid." she took another drag, looking as though it pained her. "Why are you out here?"  
  
Sugar shrugged, studying Satine in the moonlight. She wasn't in a costume, instead in a evening dress of red taffeta with an overlay of black silk with jet black beads. She looked at her inquistively.  
  
"My night off." Satine laughed. "And what a jolly night it is. Here I am, still stuck where I always am." she took a step towards Sugar. "You don't talk much, do you?"  
  
Sugar gave an embarrassed smile, and ducked her head. Satine smiled kindly at her. "That's alright. With most of the others you can't get a word in." She thoughtfully brought the cigarette up to her lips. "Most of us can't bear silence, 'cause once we give our brains a break they start to scream accusations."  
  
Sugar was watching her warily, and it was Satine's turn to be embarrassed. "_Tu m'excuse_," she said softly. "I speak out of place."  
  
"You are the Sparkling Diamond." Sugar said quietly, finding her voice. It was the statement that excused Satine of every fault.   
  
Satine tossed her head, and over the dim roar from the dance hall and the singing night air, she could hear the earrings jingle. "Yes. The Sparkling Diamond." she brought her head closer, so that she could whisper in Sugar's ear. "Truth be told, it's highly overrated. I'd much rather be one of you."  
  
Sugar took a step back in shock, and Satine smiled wickedly, as though she had just spoken treason. She nodded. "Yes, it is true, the Sparkling Diamond is blasphemously ashamed."  
  
Another breath of the cigarette. Sugar found herself entranced by the smoke, watching it ascend into the night air until it crossed the moon. Then she felt a shiver run down her spine. It was then she noticed that her normal feeling of dread had left her until that moment.  
  
Satine was now looking up the sky, still talking to Sugar. "You girls- especially your group, doll- you have one another. You aren't backstabbers. Even the Dogs have a sort of kinship." she looked at Sugar and smiled ruefully. "When I came here, I decided I didn't need friends." her smile shifted to a bitter one, and tone soon dripped with cynicism. "To be adored would be enough."  
  
And then the facade dropped. She shook her head. "It's not."  
  
Sugar was unsure of what to make of this information. Except for the time that Satine saved her in the fire, (which, in her opinion, didn't count as an encounter because they both had death breathing down their throats) Sugar had never been alone with Satine.  
  
But she was not as scared as she thought she would be. As all the other girls who had become chatty with Satine, she was sweet.  
  
But there was more to Satine than the girls had told her. She was not just a nice girl, not just the Sparkling Diamond.  
  
She was more. She had feelings, she had regrets.  
  
As she was analyzing her, Satine had come closer. She reached a hand out and twirled a lock of Sugar's hair around a perfectly manicured finger.  
  
"Don't ever give up your friends." she whispered, before pulling Sugar to her in an embrace.  
  
For one so thin, Satine's embrace was surprisingly comfortable one, not bony like some could be. Sugar could detect a slight hint of lemon verbena behind whatever perfume she was wearing. It was comforting scent, one that was safe and secure, and for a brief moment Satine was the most human, wonderful person in the world.


End file.
